Rhythm of the Falling Rain
by AKJ4
Summary: A fic in reponse to the challenge on The Royal Forum. Topic is 'Hello'.
1. Chapter 1

**Rhythm of the Falling Rain**

He held her hand tightly, the only part of her that he could reach it seemed that he could touch without causing her anymore pain. His thumb stroked back and forth across her palm. If in some way she was aware of his presence, he hoped this would provide at least a little comfort.

He was waiting, waiting for her to wake up. Though at some level he was dreading the moment she did. Her injuries were not life threatening; Mr Rose had attended to them in theatre without complication. No, it was the brutality in which the injuries were inflicted that made him reluctant to see her conscious. For he knew, when she awoke, everything would hit her and he would see the devastation once more in her eyes, as he had done earlier.

He remembered back, to the moment mere hours ago when he'd heard the desperate knocking on his front door. He'd opened it to reveal his beloved Jill, seeing her in a way he'd hoped never to see her. Her hands, her legs, her face, her arms were covered in blood, bruises and cuts. As she laid eyes on him, she let out a series of tiny sobs, tears once more cascading down her already damp cheeks.

He held out his hands, wrapping his fingers around hers as she placed her palms to him, regardless of the blood. It took little persuasion to lead her inside, and even less, once he'd shut the door, to draw her into a hug. It was only later he realised just how much that hug would have hurt her, but it seemed that at that moment, the need for comfort and safety overrode any physical pain she felt.

Eventually he pulled back, his hands moving to her waist. His eyes held a deep concern as he asked her gently what had happened. She just shook her head, shifting uncomfortably on the spot, her face contorting in increasing pain so he changed tact, asking her where she was injured.

"My leg's the worst. But… I don't know. Everywhere just hurts."

"Alright." He soothed as she descended once more into tears. "Let's check you out hey love." He led her upstairs, mindful of the children; they might disturb them in the living room, but his bedroom door had a lock. He didn't want them seeing her like that, for their sake and for Jill's.

The short journey was slow; Jill whimpered, winced and cried with each movement. He helped her as much as he could with one holding his doctors bag, his free arm encircled her waist, drawing her to his side and encouraging her to lean on him as much as she needed. She in turn clung tightly to the banister and his shoulder, gritting her teeth against each movement, but determined to make it.

Jill stirring broke Gordon from his thoughts, drew him from earlier that evening at his house to the present, to the side ward in the hospital. He shifted so he was in her eye line, a soft, reassuring smile adorned his face as he looked at her.

"Hello my darling."


	2. Chapter 2

She perched on the edge of his bed, her tear-filled eyes directed towards the carpet though what she was seeing didn't register to her. She didn't glance up as he sat beside her, facing her, or even when he covered her hand with his own.

"You said your leg is the worst. Can I take a look?"

She nodded, manoeuvring with some difficulty to hitch her skirt up, revealing a deep gash to her left thigh. Despite the strip of her blouse Jill had tied around it, the wound was still pulsing blood. "How did this happen?" He opened his doctors' bag with a sharp click, removing the items he needed.

"I fell." She gulped, seeing for the first time, in the bright light of his room just how bad the damage was.

"It might be easier if you lie down love."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"My back." She responded simply.

"I'm going to give you 50 milligrams of Pethidine, alright?" He glanced at her as he sucked clear liquid from a small glass vile into a syringe. A nod was her only reply, and she merely winced when he pierced the needle through her flesh and administered the pain killer. He dressed her thigh, though fresh blood came through to colour the crisp white material a contrasting red after only a few minutes. "Let's have a look at your back then Love." Peering round her, he saw for the first time the state of the pale blue blouse at her back; torn and bloodied, he could see glimpses of her damaged skin through the holes of the fabric. He hated to think what the rest looked like.

She was struggling with the buttons, her fingers trembling, unable to slip the tiny plastic disc through the hole. Gentle hands were placed on hers and she looked up, seeing him gazing at her with such concern. Wordlessly, she dropped her hands, allowing him to take over the task.

He moved to the cuffs, lifting Jill's wrist to get better access, though being careful not to twist her arm, mindful of any injuries she may have. As he released the last button on her sleeve, he raised her hand a little higher, allowing him to place a gentle kiss to the back of her fingers. Taking uttermost care, he slipped the soft cotton from her torso, doing his best not to pull the material tight around her as he removed the garment from her arms. Actions so tender, after such brutality, served to bring forth Jill's tears once again.

Before he even got a chance to look at her back, his attention was captured by her stomach and ribs. Even these areas of her had not been left untouched. In the short time since it had happened, severe bruising was beginning to mar her soft skin. He released her name on a sigh, glancing up at her down-turned face, wondering, not for the first time, what exactly had happened to her.


	3. Chapter 3

"What happened to her?" Jeff asked softly, looking on as one of his colleagues gazed loving at another, his hand lying on the pillow above her head, his fingers gently stroking through her soft hair. The first doctor looked up with some reluctance at the younger man.

"I don't know." Gordon sighed deeply, the whole situation surrounding the woman he loved was obviously weighing heavily on him. "It's obvious she's been attacked, judging by her injuries. But as to the specifics… She didn't say much."

Jeff nodded with sympathy, telling him he'd be back to check on her later. As the young doctor closed the door softly and left them alone once again, Gordon thought back to when they were at his house, to remember the little she did say.

He'd finished dressing the wounds as best he could though the wound on her thigh needed stiches, and the cuts on her back had some tiny shards of glass imbedded within them. An examination of her abdominal area had suggested no internal bleeding, though the bruising was severe. His intention then was to get her to The Royal. He said as much to Jill who just nodded mutely, finding nothing to disagree with and therefore no need to speak.

He glanced down, her clothes lay in a pile on his bedroom floor though there was little use in helping her back into them; they were torn and filthy. Still, she would need something with which to protect her modesty. "Here." He held out his dressing gown, helping her slip her arms through the sleeves. He drew it around her doing his best to stop any chills before tying the cord loosely but securely at her waist.

The journey downstairs was even slower than the ascending one. She clung to him even tighter, each step immensely more painful, even with the Pethidine starting to take effect. Knowing the extent to her injuries now, he was careful where to place his hands. He eased her with care into the car, helping her manoeuvre her injured leg into the foot-well. With the injuries to her back, she was unable to place any pressure onto her back so she spent the entire duration in the car sat forward in great discomfort so as to avoid contact with the seat behind her.

Periodically, he placed a comforting hand to her knee, accompanied with a glance her direction. A flicker of a smile through the pain was his response, and she thanked him quietly and a great many times during the journey.

He drew up at the hospital after a thankfully clear passage from his house. He was round the other side of the car in a second, his palpable urgency making each movement swift and deft. After helping her stand, he scooped her up in a fluid movement, knowing she was in no fit state to make the walk to casualty.

"I'm alright Gordon." She tried, without conviction. Even she had to admit, if only to herself, that walking would be incredibly painful, and that she would be unable to make it without sobbing pathetically.

"Alun!" Gordon called upon seeing the ported loitering around the ambulance. "Can you fetch my bag and lock my car? Keys are in the ignition."

"Right away doc." He replied, hurrying past the two doctors, gazing with concern at Jill who clung tightly to Gordon's shoulders. She hid her face against his neck, hating everyone seeing her in such a state. And being carried, helpless, weak… She closed her eyes, inching down in his arms as the embarrassment intensified.


	4. Chapter 4

Her bare legs dangled from beneath the dark cotton of his dressing gown. With her face hidden against his neck, the only part of her visible was legs. Even this though told everyone they passed that the doctor had been through an awful ordeal. Gordon had done a good job of cleaning her up, and so the torn, bruised skin was clearly visible to all.

In no too short a time, they arrived in casualty. Gordon carefully placed her upon the examination bed, whispering apologetically to her as she drew a sharp intake of breath when his arm brushed her wounded back. She shook her head, looping an arm around his neck and bringing him close enough to whisper a heartfelt thanks.

"What have we here Matron? I'm already here later than I should be! Big game tomorrow!"

Jill and Gordon sprung apart and Matron tutted as the brusque surgeon interrupted the peaceful scene.

"It's Doctor Weatherill, Mr Rose. I know you've just finished an operation, but I thought it would be best, under the circumstances."

"Ah yes, Matron." Mr Rose nodded, removing his pipe from his moustache guarded mouth.

After sharing a confused glance with Jill, Gordon spoke up. "What circumstances would those be Matron?"

"Well… Yourself and Doctor Weatherill stepping out together. I hardly think it's appropriate that you be in charge of her treatment Doctor."

"Ah… Yes…" Gordon replied, blushing a little whilst Jill just sighed, gradually losing interest in the conversation. She released an involuntary cry of pain as she shifted; her bruised muscles protesting the movement, and the barely congealed bloody cuts seemingly tearing once again on every part of her skin.

Mr Rose stepped forward then, having apparently forgotten his important golf match. "Let's have a look at you then dear." And he proceeded to check her over, listening as Gordon described his findings and diagnoses. Unusually for her, Jill did not contribute to the discussion. This didn't go unnoticed by Gordon, but he didn't comment; it would wait until later, when they were alone.

"Goodwin still in the building Matron?"

"Just settling your patient into Milner I believe Mr Rose. Shall I send for him?"

"If you could. He'll be needed to anaesthetise." Puffing a plume of smoke, Mr Rose moved towards the door, calling in his wake. "Nothing too serious dear, just be easier for you if we remove that glass whilst you're asleep." He turned back momentarily, continuing in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "You'll need the rest, after what you've been through."

With her injuries having been previously cleaned by Gordon, it took relatively little time to prepare Jill for theatre. This was something she was immensely grateful for; the Pethidine Gordon had administered at his house was starting to wear off, and the pain was returning in great, ever strengthening waves.

Matron had already forbidden Gordon from entering the operating theatre, though, after some pleading, he was permitted to stay whilst Jeff administered the anaesthetic. He leant down to place a soft kiss to her cheek, wiping away a tear as it slid down her face before her colleagues could see. He'd stood next to her, holding her hand, his thumb gently brushing against her palm. And it served to sooth her as her eyelids grew heavy and she succumbed to the pull of the anaesthetic.

And that was the last she remembered until she awoke in the side ward to whisper an emotional greeting to Gordon. The anaesthetic, though light, was sufficient to make her drowsy enough to slip in and out of sleep for the following few hours. And each time she awoke, Gordon was there, ready with a reassuring smile and a squeeze of a hand. She'd tried to coax him onto the bed but he gently shook his head saying, with some sense, that Matron would not be at all pleased. She had to agree but still, she would have liked to have him next to her, however painful the contact with him would be.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey." He spoke gently, moving into her eye line and directing a smile of such tenderness at her; she looked so vulnerable lying in the hospital bed with her hair awry and her eyes blurry from sleep. It made his heart swell with love and a want to protect her, though of course he would never tell her as such. She would of course abhor being seen as anything other than strong.

"Hi." She replied with a thick voice, lifting a heavy hand to rub her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Quarter past five." He replied after checking his watch.

"In the morning?"

"In the morning." He confirmed, reaching out to smooth a hand over her soft cheek as she spoke next with a surprising amount of strength.

"You should go home. You need to sleep."

Her reply was a shake of his head. She huffed in response, stretching and then shifting to lever herself into a sitting position, ready to argue her point, despite the fact she was under strict instructions to remain lying for the next few hours. It seemed the anaesthetic had pretty much worn off, for she was the most lucid she'd been all night. However, it also appeared that the analgesia had also worn off for she cried out involuntarily as she moved.

He stood swiftly, hooking his arms under hers and lowered her back to the mattress. But she shook her head violently, clinging tightly to his shoulders and using him to prevent contact with the bed beneath her. "Your back." He breathed. "I'm sorry, I forgot." And he shifted his hold, helping her lay on her side, ensuring her leg was unharmed in the process.

"Thanks." She breathed with a smile though the pain lining her face made it more of a grimace.

As he slipped his arms from her, she keenly felt the loss of contact; how she wished they were somewhere private, where Gordon could crawl onto the bed with her, and she could forget everything whilst she succumbed to sleep in his arms. But it wasn't to be. Whilst she was in a side ward, she was still afforded little privacy; nurses entered periodically to perform hourly observations, the cleaners would be in at some point, she would be on Jeff's list for his morning ward rounds, and Mr Rose would no doubt be in to survey his handiwork.

"Jill." He eventually said, thought warily, after they'd sat in silence for some time. "Matron phoned the police whilst you were in theatre."

"Oh." Was all she uttered before frowning. "Well she had no right."

He sighed her name again, leaning forwards and taking her hand. "It was obvious you'd been attacked sweetheart; your injuries told us that. We have a duty to report such things, you know that."

"What, so me being a member of staff doesn't afford me some consideration? She could have discussed it with me first."

"You can't let whoever did this to you get away with it Jill. You have to report it!"

"And I was going to – in my own time! But when the police arrive, everyone's going to know. I don't want everyone talking about me."

He didn't think it wise to inform her that, with the speed gossip seemed to spread in the hospital, the whole staff would probably know she'd been attacked soon, with or without a police presence. So he stayed silent, merely looking on sadly as she struggled against the impending tears, whilst she, on the other hand, hated the fact he was watching. She drew the scratchy blankets up higher, doing her best to hide herself from his view.

Eventually he rose after laying a hand briefly on her covered arm. "I'm thirsty. I'll go make myself a cuppa. Won't be long." And he left, closing the door softly behind him. He wasn't really thirsty, nor did he want some tea, in fact he was loath to leave her at all. But his absence would give her time to compose herself. He wasn't in the habit of leaving her when she was upset, usually he managed to coax her to open up about whatever was bothering her whilst he held her tightly against him. But in this instance he could tell that his presence, him witnessing her 'weakness' – as she would see it – was only making matters worse. She'd already experienced far too much embarrassment and humiliation that night. The least he could do was allow her to regain some of her dignity.


	6. Chapter 6

Twenty minutes. He let his jacket sleeve fall over his watch and nodded to himself. That length of time would surely be sufficient he reasoned as he made his way back to the sideward. He'd been loath to leave her, even for a second. However, he had to respect her privacy and need to be in control of her emotions.

He met Matron en-route, informing her he was going to check on Doctor Weatherill. "Take as long as you need Doctor." She replied with, he was sure, a twinkle in her eye. Their relationship was, after all, common knowledge.

"Matron!" He called as she started to walk away, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "Can you ensure only yourself and Sister Brigid treat her. She'll want as few people as possible seeing her."

"Of course Doctor." Matron nodded.

He grinned briefly in thanks before continuing on his way to the side ward, more eager than ever to see Jill. He depressed the handle of the door to her room. The sight that met him would forever haunt him. There was his beloved Jill, weakened through pain and injury, her eyes wide, wet and filled with fear, locked with a man standing above her. The man held her roughly, his hands pinning her shoulders down to the mattress beneath her, his fingers visibly digging into the bare skin just visible above the neck line of the hospital gown.

Without a second thought, Gordon rushed into the room, clearing the floor quickly and shouting something intelligible. He made to grab the intruder, but the younger man evaded his attempts whilst all the while stilling Jill's movements to defend herself. Gordon lunged forward again. The attacker turned with agility, deflecting the doctor's blows and instead using Gordon's momentum against him, grabbing his arm, spinning and sending the older man flying against the opposite wall. Momentarily winded, Gordon could only watch as Jill moved. With what must have been an immense effort, and caused her terrible pain, she kicked out. The man, presumably unprepared by an assault by a patient was caught unawares. Her heel impacted against his stomach causing him to release a grunt and stumble back. Gordon then took the opportunity to gain the upper hand, not to hurt him, merely to prevent any more harm befalling Jill. He heaved himself from the wall, but the younger man was quicker, vaulting over the bed and skidding out the room. A strangled cry from Jill told Gordon she had been injured in the man's hurry.

"Hey!" Gordon yelled, taking steps towards the door, but Jill stopped him, merely a sob of his name but she stopped him. "Alright." He breathed, glancing back at her, seeing her reaching for him. "Nurse!" He called, bringing one rushing over. "Call the police please. Tell them Doctor Weatherill's attacker's been back." At the nurse's nod, he closed the door, taking long strides to reach Jill. He sat down beside her, facing her, and she immediately fell into his arms. Terrified sobs were released and he held her as close as he could. One hand cradled her head to his shoulder. His other arm lay low on her back, mindful of her injuries. "You're alright now darling. You're safe now." He soothed into her hair. "He's not going to hurt you again; I won't let him."


	7. Chapter 7

"Did he hurt you?" Jill asked several minutes later. The sobs had stopped but as she pulled back to look at him, he could see the tears lining her red eyes.

"Not really." He murmured, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead and encasing her once more against him. "Just a bruise or two. What about you?"

"Just my back; I think some of the stitches may have torn."

He eased up the nightdress, visually inspecting the damage. She was indeed right; fresh blood had begun trickling down her back, smudged by the material of the nightdress to begin to colour her skin red. He traced the sources, identifying three cuts around her shoulder blades where the stiches had come loose, the freshly congealed blood doing little to prevent the wounds from reopening.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the peaceful moment. He dropped the nightdress, preserving Jill's modesty a mere second before Matron and Sister Brigid entered the room.

"Doctor-" Matron began only to be interrupted by Gordon.

"Sister please fetch the suture tray."

"Right away Doctor." She departed swiftly, her long skirts swishing around her legs as she turned the corner towards casualty. Only moments later she returned, pushing a small trolley before her.

"Is this really appropriate Doctor?" Matron questioned, watching Gordon swabbing a small area of Jill's flesh, murmuring an apology when she drew in a sharp breath at the contact.

"Doctor Goodwin and Mr Rose have already gone home. There's no need to call them just to stitch a couple of cuts. Okay Jill." He turned his attention to his fellow doctor. "I'm about to administer the anaesthetic, alright."

She nodded, and forced herself not to flinch as the needle pierced through her already sore flesh.

"Okay?" He placed a hand briefly on her shoulder, feeling her lean into his touch as she nodded once again. Whilst he waited for the anaesthetic to numb the area, he set about preparing the sutures. He reflected as he did this how uncharacteristically quiet Jill was. She would normally have made a sarcastic or dry remark, but she had as yet remained silent. Not that he could blame her; it was hardly surprising after what she had been through, though what exactly had happened to her he had yet to discover.

After checking the area was sufficiently numb, he set about his task, working with gentle efficiency and care. As he did so, an uncommonly nauseous feeling crept upon him. He was used to stitching wounds, he did it every day, he was confident in his abilities. Yet this time it was different, this time it was Jill's skin he was piercing, this time it was Jill's wounds he was attempting to heal, wounds which had been inflicted with obvious anger and disregard.

After only suturing one cut he had to pause, finding his hand trembling, the needle no longer steady in his fingers. His free hand strayed to Jill's bare shoulder as he lowered his head in an attempt to slow his breathing.

"Doctor Ormerod?" Matron was the first to question, her face holding a quizzical concern as she gazed upon him.

"I'm alright." He breathed yet didn't resume his task.

Jill twisted in her sitting position to look behind her. "Gordon… I'm sure Sister Brigid wouldn't mind continuing. "

"Not at all Doctor." The nun replied, stepping forward and easing the needle from the dazed man. She gently pushed him away to take his place.

Sister Brigid's actions prompted some sort of response from him. Raising his head, he saw all three women gazing at him with concern. "I'm sorry Jill." He managed.

Doctor Weatherill shook her head, a sad smile curving her lips as she held out a hand, coaxing him to sit on the bed at her side. They were both seated on the edge of the bed though she faced towards the centre to allow the cuts on her back to be accessible.

After indicating Sister Brigid could begin, Jill proceeded to take Gordon's other hand in her own, drawing him closer to her, bringing their hands to rest in her lap. Despite trusting Sister Brigid and Matron to be discreet, she couldn't reveal her emotions to them. So she did all she could in their presence; her eye contact with Gordon never wavered, her thumbs stroked firmly across his knuckles, comforting him without words.


	8. Chapter 8

"I'll just go clean up." Gordon spoke softly as the sharp noise of metal meeting metal resounded when Sister Brigid lay the needle down in the kidney dish. He stood, and reached around Jill as she nodded, pulling down her nightgown and preserving her modesty once more. As he closed the door behind him, he caught Sister asking if Jill would like her to stay until he returned. The response was predictable, and strongly delivered. A hint of a smile flickered across the tired doctor's lips; it provided a little relief that Jill still seemed able to deliver her cutting remarks.

The gushing of hot water provided welcome noise to the otherwise silent sluice room. He tried to concentrate on the task in hand, namely washing his hands, yet his mind kept wandering through the evening. The myriad of emotions he'd experienced kept coming back to him in nauseating waves; the shock as she'd turned up distraught on his doorstep, the fear as he took in her injuries, the ever present concern, and the love. He'd seen the look in her eyes as he'd gently released her hands only minutes ago in the side ward. She'd been reluctant to let go, her fingers curling a little tighter around his, perhaps only subconsciously. Her whole demeanour was different. It was hard for him to adequately describe it. She was quieter, certainly. Her eyes were downcast, her shoulders a little slumped. She just…wasn't herself he concluded as he dried his hands on a freshly clean white towel. Not that he could blame her of course.

The towel was tossed with little care into the linen basket by the door. His rapid footsteps now filled the silence of the night time hush the hospital held. He became more eager to return to her with each step. He knocked softly on the wooden door before entering to see Jill sat rigidly upright, her anxious gaze turned towards him. "Alright love?" He asked softly, crossing the room to her side.

She nodded in response, visibly fighting to force a more neutral expression to rest on her features. His outstretched hand was accepted. "My back hurts." She eventually said, gazing up at him glumly. "And I'm fed up of lying down."

He reached forward to stroke her cheek sympathetically. "Budge up a little." He smiled, seating himself beside her, aware of her quizzically watching him as he toed off his black work shoes. He eased himself back against the pillows behind her, his legs either side of her, and coaxed her to sit back between them. He drew up his knees so he almost surrounded her, hoping to provide the feeling of safety she so desperately needed. She turned to her side, settling her head on his left shoulder, her face pressed to his neck. She curled her legs up, her knees fitting into the space between his right knee and the mattress. He eased down a little, taking more of her weight on his torso. His left arm supported her back, his hand resting on her hip. This hand was immediately claimed by her right, her arm curling around herself to her side so her fingers could slide between his. Her left hand was free to cling tightly to his right shoulder, and his right arm drew across her, his hand getting lost in her soft hair, gently massaging through the strands.

She would never tell him, but he knew she didn't want to be alone. And she would never ask him to stay, yet he knew she wanted him to.


End file.
